


In Color

by concerningsuperwholockandhobbits



Category: Night at the Museum (2006 2009)
Genre: Adventure, Gen, Multichapter, Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian, OC, POV First Person, Rewrite, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-06
Updated: 2016-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-07 16:57:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1122274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/concerningsuperwholockandhobbits/pseuds/concerningsuperwholockandhobbits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Viola is Larry Daley's adopted daughter. To those who don't know her very well, she can seem shy and reserved, but she gets more than she bargained for when she embarks on an adventure to the Smithsonian with her father.  At the Smithsonian, she is captured by Kahmunrah and placed under the supervision of Al Capone.  Now she has to try getting back to her father and see how the night turns out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolouge - So It Begins

Everything we do in life is history. Whether it's driving your car to work or maybe even going to that crazy family reunion that your parents host every year, it's a part of history. It may not be in the pages of the textbooks they hand you at school, but with all the events and the twist and turns of life, it makes up who you are.

My name is Viola Trinity Daley, and I'm a history teacher in the works thanks to Columbia University. I live in Brooklyn, New York, New York; you get the picture right? I didn't always live here though, and my last name wasn't always 'Daley' either.

Originally, I lived in Gray's Ferry, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania and my name was Viola Trinity Carter. This little section of Philadelphia was were I grew up with my mom and dad, as well as my little brother Joel. My dad was best friends with Larry Daley, they had grown up in the same Brooklyn neighborhood with each other, and Larry was extremely close with my family. I remember on several occasions how Joel and I referred to Larry as our second dad, which he was in many ways. My family lived a happy existence, never really any arguments in the house or anything since we all got a long pretty well.

But as I'm known to say, life has it's twists and turns, but sometimes those twists and turns are not meant to do any good. On February 12th, 2006, my parents died instantaneously in a head on collision with a tractor trailer and my twelve year old brother was in critical condition. I somehow, miraculously made it out of wreck with a few scrapes and one short, but deep cut on my right cheek. I was in the ambulance with Joel when they rushed him to the hospital, and I was holding his hand when he couldn't hold on anymore. I was there to hear his monitor flat line.

How life and a person's history can be change in a brief instant completely baffles me. The moments seemed to pass by in slow motion as I sat alone at the Philadelphia Police Station, realizing that I don't even know how the wreck had even occurred, but I only knew for sure that I was a seventeen year old kid who had just lost three of the people that I loved and cared about the most and there was no way I could get them back. Life tends to deal you some really bad hands of cards from time to time, but you have to remember that nothing truly lasts forever.

Within hours, Larry Daley came rushing into the police station and pulled me into a tight hug, trying to reassure me that everything would be okay in time. It just became a matter of time, taking one agonizing day at a time. After the funeral for my parents and brother, Larry took me home with him to Brooklyn and I've lived with him ever since.

I was only living with Larry, who had legally adopted me, for a few short months before he took the night guard position at the museum of natural history. Since I was living with him full time, he came home and expressed his concerns with me immediately after his first night on the job. The next thing I knew, I was going with him the next night and witnessed the magic of the museum myself; and I never missed an opportunity to be there ever again.

During my time at the museum, I grew close to many of the exhibits; particularly Jed, Ahkmenrah, and Teddy. Ahkmenrah truly became my best friend over the years, and by far was probably the most patient with my slow warming to all of the exhibits. Teddy turned into the uncle figure that could make everyone smile on their darkest days, and could also offer the most profound advice when you least expected it. Jed, well, in a sense he became one of the cliché overprotective big brothers that you see in the movies. He liked joking around with me, but most of all I think he enjoyed threatening to take care of people who bothered me with good old Smith and Wesson.

To be bluntly honest, the happiest I've ever seen Larry was when he was working at the museum. He would always come home with a smile on his face and a story to tell. But his company took off a couple of years after he was working at the museum. He eventually couldn't balance the two and left the night guard position at the museum, and I know that absolutely killed him on the inside.

However, our friends didn't have to adjust to anyone unfamiliar. When Larry admitted that he would be leaving the museum, I had just started my first semester at Columbia and seized the opportunity. I applied for the job and took over Larry's position at the museum. It was honestly the greatest job in the world and I loved every second of it.

But a few months back, I got the disturbing news from McPhee that we would be changing exhibits around and a majority of our exhibits were to be sent back to the Smithsonian. I tried to convince McPhee to reconsider the decision, but he wouldn't be swayed. Having to be the bearer of bad news to my friends of a few, but meaningful years was hard, I wished I could be as persuasive, outspoken, and convincing as My adopted father, but I wasn't. I was just the shy and soft spoken night guard who never took risks, just seeing everything in black and white.

Both Teddy and Ahkmenrah had encouraged me to bring the situation up to Larry, since maybe he could help. I honestly tried bringing myself to tell him about what was going on, but I couldn't make myself to do it. Things were just starting to go right for him, and even though I knew that he would want to know, I also knew that he would tear himself away from his company to try and change everything. I couldn't do that to him when I know just how hard he worked for his success.


	2. A Regular Larry

Today was going to be a real challenge for me. It was the day that Dad would get his big break on an infomercial show with the one and only George Foreman, but when the sunset it would be my last night in the museum with a majority of my friends. I didn't know exactly how to feel, I should be happy for my Dad, but I should also be feeling a great deal of sadness to watch my friends go as well.

The smell of something burning pulled me away from my conflicted thoughts, reminding me of my responsibilities that I had. "Crap," I shouted, racing over from the kitchen table to the stove and removed the pot from the burner.

"Is it edible," I heard the voice of Nicky, Larry's son and my adopted brother, ask from the other room.

I stirred the contents of the pot, a wonderful mixture of macaroni and cheese, and was relieved to only find a few of the noodles stuck to the bottom. "Got there in the knick of time," I replied quickly, then realizing my play on words and groaned to myself.

"Haha, really funny Vi," came Nicky's dry, sarcastic response.

"I didn't mean to do it," I answered with a chuckle, grabbing two clear glass bowls from the cabinet closest to the stove and pouring a generous helping of mac and cheese in each bowl. "Anyway, the food is ready kiddo," I informed him, grabbing two forks before heading out with the bowls of mac and cheese.

I heard Nick let out a frustrated sigh, closing his laptop loudly as I approached. He had an aggravated expression, which wasn't normal for him at all. "What's wrong Nicky," I asked inquisitively, setting the bowls and forks onto the coffee table before turning my attention to collecting the numerous pages of notes that covered the couch.

"I'm trying to find a good research paper topic for my class," he answered, helping collect the notes and setting them on the floor to his right.

"You live in an apartment with two history buffs," I pointed out to him in a joking tone, "this shouldn't be too hard. What are you covering?"

"We're covering the American Revolution," he scoffed after he answered, "and you'd be surprised Viola, everybody took all the good topics today."

It was my turn to scoff, "Yeah right, I highly doubt that Nick. You could do your paper about Benedict Arnold, that's a good topic."

"No, Phillip picked that one," Nicky answered, taking a bite of mac and cheese afterwards.

"There's always the battle of Quebec."

"Jenny got to choose first and that's what she picked."

"Patrick Ferguson?"

"Shelby."

"Valley Forge?"

"Adam."

"Battle of Guilford Courthouse?"

"Sam."

"Okay, how about Horatio Gates?"

"William picked him."

I sat next to him feeling almost dumbfounded, "Wow, your classmates have good taste in paper topics."

"You're telling me," Nicky rolled his eyes, "I have to have a topic by tomorrow or Mr. Hart will assign me a lame one."

I mulled over several topic ideas for a few minutes, giving us time to eat a few bites of mac and cheese. An idea finally struck me as I remembered the articles of required reading from one of my classes last week. "Hey Nick," I asked as a I felt a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth, "you want a topic that will stick out from the rest of the class?"

"You bet."

"Then do it on slavery during the American Revolution," I told him quickly as I got up to retrieve a text book from the kitchen. I returned with it in hand, flipping through the pages until I came across the certain article. "Here," I handed the text to Nicky, "this article by Sylvia Frey discusses it and it's really interesting, most of the stuff in there they never cover in other history classes. The following article by Ira Berlin is a good one as well." I watched Nick's eyes scan across the first page before adding, "It's a little lengthy, but it's college reading material and you'll definitely get brownie points from Mr. Hart for it."

"Thanks," Nicky set the book down on the coffee table, "I'll scan and make copies of the pages later."

"Nah," I waved my hand as I sat back down, "I'm not going to need that book until Monday anyways, so you can borrow it."

"Thanks," Nick replied gratefully as he continued to eat his Mac and cheese before he paused, " Isn't it time for dad's interview?"

I glanced at the clock on the wall, "It's getting pretty close, do you remember what channel he said it was on?"

"Channel thirteen, I think," Nicky flipped the TV on and went to channel thirteen.

We watched the credits for some other show, I didn't even know what it was before we saw the shot of a nice house at night as the lights flickered, inevitably turning off, and a booming voice narrating, ""What if this was your house? Power's out and the lights are dead. Your little ones in their bunk bed down the hall, crying out."

Right on cue, we heard the voices of two children cry out, ""Mommy! Daddy! Come quick, I'm scared!"

"You need to get there, and fast," the voice boomed once more before showing a man fumbling down the hall. "Coming, honey! Daddy's coming," the man tried to call out a reassuring message to the children as he fumbled about down a darkened hallway.

"Wow," I heard Nicky give a low whistle as the skit went on, "this is pretty cheesy."

I laughed in response, "It took your dad a while to come up with this, trust me, I went through all the trial runs." Nicky laughed as well, then we both fell silent as we heard a familiar voice sound out through the TV.

"I'll tell you how, The Glow-in-the-Dark Flashlight! That's right, folks! I'm Larry Daley of Daley Devices, and we're gonna spend the next paid-programming block rocking your world. And I brought along a friend to do it. George Foreman, ladies and gentlemen!" Nicky and I to smile widely, who wouldn't be when someone they loved was on TV with George Foreman?

The camera panned over to show dad approaching George, and we could hear the crowd going nuts. After a couple of waves, he finally sat down next to George as he began to speak, "Fantastic, Larry, fantastic! Isn't he fantastic, America? But, seriously, isn't it true that just two years ago, you were working as a night guard at some dusty museum?"

Dad smirked a bit as he looked straight at the camera and answered, "That is true, two-time world heavyweight champ George Foreman. I was just a regular Joe with a flashlight and a dream."

"You mean a regular Larry," George joked, looking at the crowd for a reaction. The crowd roared with laughter while Nicky and I groaned in annoyance.

"Seriously, how do they think that's funny," Nicky questioned while chewing a forkful of macaroni.

"Don't talk with your mouthful, Dad would both kill me if he knew you did that," I corrected him, mockingly shaking my fork at him. "Anyways, I don't know, maybe they have prerecorded laughter that they just add in at the station."

"Maybe," Nicky shrugged in response, before we fell back into silence, eating our dinner and watching Larry banter with George Foreman about the devices that he had invented for the blocked hour that they were on.

I gathered up the empty bowls at the end of the program and set out to wash them quickly. "Pack up your stuff, Nicky," I called out over my shoulder, "I gotta get to work."

"Dad's not coming back tonight?"

"I don't know," I answered, "honestly, he just told me that as he walked out the door this morning that he had some business to take care of and that I was to take you to the museum so your mom could pick you up there."

"All right," Nick responded, and I pictured him doing his usual shrug.

I dried my hands after making quick work of the dishes and ran off in the direction of the bathroom. With a swift glance into the mirror, I simply ran a brush through my chocolate brown hair and tied it back into a ponytail. On my way back to the living room, I gathered my messenger bag and a book on the Prohibition movement that I needed to read. "You ready kiddo," I asked Nicky as I walked towards the front door.

"Yeah," he replied, slipping the straps of his backpack over his shoulders. Without further hesitation, we exited and locked up the apartment and walked down the hall towards the elevator. "Do you ever leave the apartment without a book?"

Nicky tore me from my thoughts of this being the last night I could see my friends at the museum, which was eating me up inside. "Sometimes, but not very often," I spoke quietly.

"Well, what's this book about," Nicky seemed rather inquisitive at the moment, and I was grateful for the distraction.

"This one is about the Prohibition movement in America," I cast a glance down at the cover as we came to the elevator. Nick pressed the lobby button on the panel and I fell into further explanation, "I'm doing the Prohibition as my project topic for my Nature of America class, so I needed to read up on it."

"You mean read about the gangsters and the speak-easies, right," Nicky tried to test his memory, looking at me for a response.

"Well, that's a big part of it," I admitted as the elevator chimed, opening it's door to let us in. Nicky said nothing else in return, causing my troublesome thoughts to return. I sighed and began to say something, but Nicky's phone made a strange, though quite familiar chirping noise.

"Hold that thought," Nicky told me as his fingers nimbly responded to the text that he apparently had received.

I chuckled at the sight, "You're just about as bad as Dad is when it comes to your phone."

"Sorry, it was Jenny," Nicky tried to defend himself, slipping the phone into his pocket.

"The girl who is doing her paper on the battle of Quebec?"

"Yeah."

A smirk crept onto my face, "By any chance, is her number 867-5309?"

Nicky looked up at me, a rather confused expression crossing his face,"What are you talking about?"

"Nothing," I answered quickly before changing the subject, "anyways, which do you think will be faster, subway or taxi?"

The elevator chimed again and we exited, making out way across the lobby. "The subway of course, why," Nicky questioned me.

I heaved a heavy sigh at the dreaded thought of going into the museum tonight, "I'm in no rush anyways, taxi it is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Partially drawing from my own internal struggles as a history major... feel free to utilize the paper topics!


	3. Remorse

After I had said goodbye to Nicky and his mother, Erica, I found myself staring at my own reflection in the little mirror I kept in my locker. I didn't want to be here tonight at all, and keep in mind that I absolutely love my job. Tonight was the dreaded night that I prayed to avoid for months, and my prayers were ultimately unanswered since I would probably never seen many of the people I loved ever again in my life.

I tugged on my dark gray uniform jacket solemnly, allowing my thoughts to wander about how things would never be the same around here with many of the exhibits and my friends gone. My gaze drifted to the two photographs I hung in my locker, one photograph being of my parents, Joel, and I standing outside of our home in Gray's Ferry and the other being of Larry, Nicky, and I standing in front of the museum. They brought back the memories of the changes in my life flooded back into my thoughts, and I could only block them out by shutting the locker door.

I turned and slumped against the lockers, heaving a heavy sigh. "All things for reasons, Viola," I recited my mom's famous phrase to myself as I traced the scar on my right cheek absentmindedly, a grim reminder of my loss, "all things for reasons."

I had to force myself to straighten up my uniform, my grabbing my flashlight and the Prohibition book as well, and leave the security room behind. Goodbyes, oh how I hate goodbyes, and this night would be the longest goodbye that I would probably ever have to withstand.

I walked down the hall and rounded the corner to trip over a crate, holding up to my expected clumsiness, and found Dad and Dr. McPhee in the midst of a heated discussion. "Sorry," I mumbled, picking myself up and walking away in the other direction to let them have their space and finish their discussion. Apparently, McPhee didn't stay very long before I heard my dad yell out, "Viola Trinity."

I flinched, knowing I was in trouble since he used my middle name, and walked over towards him. I looked up from my feet to meet his eyes, and I knew what he wanted to talk with me about by his aggravated expression. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you," I stated bluntly, trying to address the problem before he hounded me.

Dad sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "I just want to know why you didn't tell me." This was a good sign that he was just trying to be understanding instead of angry, which put me at ease a little bit.

"Your corporation took off," I tried to explain. "You've said numerous times that your happy with everything that's going on in your life, so I just couldn't tell you about the move and distract you from everything you've worked so hard for. Plus, I know you're stressed out from all the meetings and stuff that you have to keep up with, so I didn't want to stress you out even more," I paused, catching myself rambling on. "Sorry, you just need to stop me when I'm rambling," I gave an embarrassed smile, rubbing the back of my neck.

Dad gave a small smile and sighed, "What am I ever going to do with you Viola?"

"Wait for me to finish college, get a job, and get married to one of the sons of your corporation colleagues," I suggested in a joking manner.

He laughed quietly, "I guess so." He placed a hand on my shoulder before adding, "You just need to speak up a little and not be so worried all the time."

"Thanks Dad," I gave a small smile and hugged him quickly. Inside, my guilt of not telling my Dad about the situation sooner mixed with my sorrow of knowing that once the sun set, I only had a few precious hours left with my friends. "I just hate being so reserved, but I can't help it," I added as I pulled away from the hug.

"You know what I say about that," he offered his typical advice, "If you put your mind to it, you can do anything."

I gave a small laugh, "All right McFly, I get it." I looked down at the keys that were leashed onto my belt, and looked at the ornate window that lined the ceiling of the museum, "We've got a few minutes until sunset, so I have to go lock up the doors."

"You got all the windows, right?"

"Yeah, I got them all before I changed into the uniform," I called over my shoulder as I quickly walked towards the doors.

"Even the security room window," he questioned me, causing me to curse under my breath.

"You think I would remember that one on a night like this," I remarked as I locked the doors.

"You want me to get it," I heard my dad offer eagerly.

"No, I got it," I told him, waving my hand slightly. "Almost everyone will be really excited to see you, Dad, so I guess you can hang out here unsupervised until I get back."

"Everyone except Jed, right," I saw his blue eyes sadden just a little bit.

Out of everyone, Jed was the one who was hurt the most when dad left the museum and he never let dad be when he came back for visits. Ahkmenrah and I discussed the option that Jed may have abandonment issues, but we couldn't truly be sure about the observation.

"Jed's still a little sore," I admitted to my dad before hesitantly adding, "but I think he'll be okay tonight. Maybe." Dad just nodded in response, so I headed off to lock the security room window.


	4. Farewell

By the time I returned from the security room, the sun had set and dad was playing what looked to be an intense game of tug-of-war with Rexy. It caused me to smile, thinking back of the old days when he was the one wearing the uniform and I was the one just tagging along to witness the enchantments of the museum. These thoughts were interrupted when Rexy flung dad across the room, causing me to gasp, but luckily he landed on a stack of packing quilts.

"I'm fine," dad called out as I dashed over to help him up. No sooner did I approach my dad, the rest of the museum burst into life. The exhibits began exiting their crates and brushing off the styrofoam peanuts that insisted on sticking to them. I soon felt tiny paws tug at my uniform trousers, looking down to recognize a familiar capuchin.

"Hey Dexter," I picked him up and giggled as he climbed up my arm and sat on my shoulder. "No mischief tonight, all right," I reminded him, and was satisfied with his quick nod of recognition before he scampered off. Unlike my dad on most occasions, I trusted Dexter. He may be mischievous and aggravating at times, but he proved to be a valuable friend on many occasions.

I followed my dad around for a little bit, helping exhibits out of the crates and greeting them. Soon, Teddy rode over with Texas with his usual jovial smile and his happy demeanor.

"Lawrence, my dear lad, it's good to see you," his voice boomed as he smiled and shook dad's hand. "Why didn't you tell me your father would be visiting, Viola," he turned to me, asking the obviously expected question since he was certainly caught off guard by dad's appearance.

"Trust me, I was just about as confused as you were when I saw him in the lobby," I answered him.

"Hey, Teddy, McPhee just told me what was going on around here. I had no idea," Dad spoke up as Teddy had turned to speak with him.

That simple statement earned me a stern look from Teddy and he questioned me in a low, serious tone,"You never told him?"

I felt myself shrink under his stern gaze, like a small child being reprimanded for lying. "Well, um, it's kind of a weird story Teddy," I began to explain myself softly.

"The Guardian of Brooklyn has returned!" I said a silent prayer in relief that I wouldn't have to explain myself again at the sound of the familiar voice. But before I could escape the current awkward situation, Teddy sent a chiding stare in my direction and I could practically hear him chastising me of how I should have told my dad about the entire ordeal in the first place.

I gave Teddy a sincerely apologetic look before he continued his conversation with dad, which paused everytime dad's phone vibrated and chirped, and Sacajawea approached them. I turned and almost ran into Ahkmenrah, the prince who had saved me from embarrassment just moments prior. "Hey Ahkmenrah," I greeted my best friend with a smile, "let me just thank you for having the perfect timing."

Ahkmenrah gave a smile in return, but seemed a little confused at my statement. "Why is that, Viola," he asked as we walked a few paces away from everyone else.

"You saved me from completely making a fool of myself when I had to explain to Teddy why I didn't tell Dad about the exhibits being moved," I answered, but quickly regretted it when I saw a look almost similar to Teddy's cross Ahkmenrah's face.

"You did not tell Larry about it," he asked the redundant question, still making me feel guilty.

"No, I didn't... And I know it was wrong, but I just couldn't bring any more stress into his life right now," I tried my best to find the right words to explain. "He rarely ever sleeps since his business took off, and he doesn't admit it, but the job makes him miserable. He misses working here in the museum a lot, and he misses all of you. I just couldn't tell him about the change and hurt him like that."

"But do you think it hurt Larry more that you didn't tell him?"

I sighed in defeat and leaned against an empty crate, "You're right, I know I should have told him, but I couldn't and didn't. Why can't I do anything right Ahkmenrah?"

He gave me a disbelieving look, "Now why would you say that, you know that isn't true."

"It doesn't quite seem to be that way right now," I responded in a low, despondent tone as I looked down at my feet, "I never say the right things when I need to and I over think things too much."

"Your cautions are part of who you are and have proven to be just in many occasions," Ahkmenrah tilted my head up to look into his green eyes to show the honesty of his words, "and I know that you can be very confident, as well as vocal at the right times."

I didn't even get to respond to Ahkmenrah's comment before the whole room fell silent as we all heard thumping from one of the smaller crates. "Hey Bocephus," a familiar voice with a western draw cried out from under the lid, "a little help over here!"

"Crap," I muttered under my breath, kicking myself for not double checking to see if everyone was out. Ahkmenrah and I watched as my dad approached the crate, lifting the lid to reveal Jed, Octavius, and the rest of the miniatures. My stomach churned at such a simple action, I knew what was about to happen and there was no way of avoiding it.

"Hey fellas," Dad greeted in a soft, friendly tone as he set the lid down, "how you doing?"

"Well, lookee here," Jed began in a taunting tone, causing me to involuntarily bite my lower lip. Ahkmenrah seemed to notice and he knew how I hated to see Jed and Dad argue, so he tried to put a reassuring arm over my shoulders as Jed continued. "If it ain't Mr. Big-In-The-Britches himself, come back just in time to see us off," he continued on.

I could see dad's eyes flicker with pain for just a moment before he sighed and replied to Jed in a saddened tone, "Yeah, Jed, I heard. Look, I don't even know how this happened." His cellphone vibrated and chirped, so he took the chance to look down at it.

"Yeah. Yeah, real mystery how this happened," Jed continued on mocking my dad. He shook his head slightly and added, "Maybe the answer's on that magic buzzing box there in your hand!" Finally Jed just lashed out on dad, "You weren't here, Gigantor! That's how it happened! Ain't no mystery, Viola tried her darnedest to keep us from gettin' moved, but where we're you?!"

Dad visibly flinched at the remark, and I felt even worse than before. Various exhibits sounded off in agreement with Jed before dad turned and tried to calm everyone down. "Hey, guys," he shouted out, "It's okay! I'll call the board in the morning, all right? I got some pull now. I'll handle this, we're gonna be okay here."

"'We'," Jed cried out in an appalled manner, "Did you hear that? Did you hear Daydream Johnny?" Jed began going deeper into an argument than I had ever seen him go, and quite honestly it scared me, "There ain't been a 'we' ever since you put us on the 'pay no mind' list. And that's a cold place to be, boy."

Octavius took his place to interject, obviously as concerned as I was but just as angry a Jedediah, "Larry, what's done is done." He then looked off to something between dad and Jed before adding, "Even the glory of Rome had to come to an end."

"I hate this," I muttered to Ahkmenrah, "Every time they see each other, they bicker back and forth. Why do they have to argue?"

Ahkmenrah just simply squeezed my shoulder as dad tried to put a bright spin on things, "Look guys, maybe it won't be so bad." Attila yelled something in his native language before Jed could interject, to which dad replied, "Yes, you make a good point. But this is the Smithsonian we're talking about here."

"You're missing the point, Gigantor, they're shipping us out!"

"Larry," Octavius tried to explain for Jed, "I know your trying to make us feel better. I can see that you're genuinely slightly bothered, but it's never going to be the same. All of us here, together, in this place."

"It ain't never gonna be home, boy," Jed got his last comment in, and it made my heart ache because I knew they were right.

"Jedediah, please," Teddy stated firmly, trying to prevent him from depressing anyone else any further. "Lawrence, these are emotional times for all of us," he began, "But it is our last night as a family, and I don't want to see it squandered in self-pity. So who will join me for one final stroll through these hallowed halls?"

Everybody murmured in agreement, except Jedediah, of course. Teddy help Sacajawea up onto Texas and they lead the way thought the museum. Everyone fell behind Teddy as he set out.

"Do you want to go for a walk," Octavius turned and asked Jed, almost hoping that he would go along with the group.

"Nah, I'm just gonna squander in self-pity," Jed answered turning away from Octavius and walking away.

I looked over at Ahkmenrah, who gave me a small smile. He offered me his arm in an effort to join the walk, "Well, shall we?"

"Yeah," I returned the smile, "just give me a second." I walked over to the small crate, where Jed sat on it's edge. "Hey Jed," I said as I kneeled down to meet his eyes, "don't sit here and squander away the night in self-pity, just go for a walk with Ahkmenrah and I."

"That's a no-can-do, Viola. I'm just going to sit here and squander in self-pity. I'm a man of my word," Jed answered, crossing his arms defiantly.

"But Jed," I sighed, "like Teddy said, it's our last night as a family and it's not going to be the same without you there with us. You shouldn't be alone on the last night that we're all here together."

My gamble of trying to convince Jed, where dad or Octavius couldn't, had paid off as it usually did. "All right, all right! I'll go on the darn walk, but only 'cause you asked," he gave in reluctantly.

I gave a victorious smile at being able to convince him to come along, and carefully scooped him up to set him on my shoulder. I returned to Ahkmenrah and we quickly rejoined the others for the walk for our last night in the museum together.

\-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Everyone returned to the lobby as our last walk together ended and the dawn drew near. No smiles were to be seen as our time together slowly dwindled away, just the sound of crates sliding open and the faint mumbles of goodbye.

I went around helping many into their specified crates before I stopped in front of the crate where the miniatures were to be. I let Jed climb off my shoulder and onto my palm, holding him at eye level to me. "Well, I guess this is it," my voice strained, just trying to keep myself from crying.

"I guess it is," Jed responded, his western draw not being able to mask the fact that he was upset as well.

"I'm never going to forget you Jed," I just barely managed to choke out the words, "you were the big brother I never had." If I didn't have to worry about crushing him, I would have hugged Jed and never let him go at this point.

Jed just looked down at his boots before looking back up at me. "Well, Goodbye Viola," he seemed to be searching for the right words to say, "You take care of yourself as well as keepin' Gigantor and Nick in line, all right?"

"I will, Jed," was all I could say to him before I just set him on the edge of the crate and walked away. I tried to tell him goodbye, but the words just wouldn't come out. I walked by Dexter's crate, which was partially opened. I simply tapped the lid, the dreadful words still refusing to escape my throat, and after no response just shut the lid quietly.

I soon found Ahkmenrah headed my way to say goodnight, or good morning more like it. I pulled him into a hug that I much I needed at the moment and sighed sadly.

"Don't feel guilty about what has happened Viola," He tried to console me as he pulled away, "As Octavius said, what has been done is done. You tried your best, that is all one can really ask of you."

"But maybe if I tried harder, everyone wouldn't have to be shipped back to the Federal Archives," I retorted dejectedly.

Ahkmenrah sighed for a moment before he asked, "What is that saying that you always say?"

"What?"

"You know, the saying you always use that your mother used to say," he explained to me, the words he was looking for escaping him.

"All things for reasons," I answered quietly after a moment.

"Exactly," Ahkmenrah smiled at my answer, "All things for reasons. You must remember this, it is quite good advice. You never know what your destiny has in store for you, Viola, because everything happens for a reason."

I gave a faint smile at his consoling words, "You better get back to your sarcophagus, the sun is going to rise soon."

He nodded in agreement, "Just remember what I said, Viola. Goodnight."

"And good morning to you too," I joked lightly. Mere moments after, he was gone, running off to his sarcophagus with a few minutes to spare before the sun rose. I meandered through the crates to make my way over to Teddy just around the time that my dad did as well.

"It's almost dawn, Lawrence and Viola," Teddy remarked as we approached.

"Yeah," Dad sighed, "So, where's your crate, Teddy?"

Dad's comment earned me a second stern, soul piercing glare from Teddy. I felt like a small child caught lying again, and I took a side step to place myself a little behind dad to shield me from the wrath of Theodore Roosevelt. "You didn't tell him," Teddy asked in the same low, serious tone as before.

"If I didn't tell him about the move, how was I supposed to tell him about this," I made a weak, thin argument. However, it proved enough to get me out of the kettle of boiling water that is the anger of Theodore Roosevelt.

Teddy took a deep breath in before admitting to dad, "I won't be making this journey, Lawrence. It seems myself, Rexy, and a few of the signature exhibits will be staying here for now."

"Without the tablet," dad asked quickly, quite shocked at the revelation.

Teddy motioned for dad to follow him toward his pedestal, but I hung behind. I all ready knew what Teddy had to say, and I just preferred not to be around when he said it. He was going to tell dad that the tablet would be staying here in the museum with Ahkmenrah, and that for the exhibits being set to the Archives, well, this was truly their last night.

I let a few tears stream down my face as I looked up at the ornate widow that lined the ceiling. I really wished things were different, I even wished I was different. Maybe things could have turned out differently, then my friends wouldn't have had to leave. I wish I could be more like my dad, then maybe things wouldn't have gone the way that they did and I wouldn't have to spend my days in a colorless world, knowing that I didn't help my friends in their time of need despite my efforts.

Just like so many times before, I watched the first rays of sunlight peek through the ornate window. Only this time, the beams of sunshine were cold and uninviting; my friends were gone now, and I knew that I wouldn't see them again except for in my memories.

"Hey," Dad said quietly, placing an arm over my shoulders as I let a few more tears slide down my face, "Let's go home." I glanced down to see he had all ready grabbed my clothes and the book I had brought in earlier, saving me some time.

"Okay," I answered walking with him over to the doors to quickly unlock them and exit. As we made our way across the street from the museum, I turned and looked at it before dad tried to hail a cab. My heart broke as a truck pulled around the corner with a huge carton with 'The Museum of Natural History' printed on each side drove down the street. I knew my life would never be the same from that point on, I just didn't know how.


	5. If It's Not One Thing, It's Another

It was a silent cab ride home, which was both unusual and uncomfortable. Neither of us really wanted to talk, even though I at least tried to strike up a bit of a conversation.

Once we arrived home, dad only stayed long enough to change his work clothes. "Hey," he got my attention as I almost dozed off as I sat on the couch, "Nicky gets out at three, can you pick him up from school today?"

"Yeah," I mumbled quietly, "I'll get him."

Dad gave me a small smile and a quick pat on the shoulder, "Get some rest, you've had a long night."

"All right, I love you Dad."

"I love you too Viola," he responded and then he walked out the door, off to be the executive of Daley Devices once again. I sighed and got up from the couch, thinking of how much I missed when dad would just be coming home from the greatest job in the world with a huge smile on his face.

I went into my bedroom, which obviously used to be the guest room due to it's size, and changed into a pair of plaid pajama pants. It was the start of mid-semester break at Columbia, which just meant I didn't have to go to school for the rest of the week. I was happy about being able to sleep in for once. I curled up in my bed underneath my favorite fleece blanket and fell victim to my dreams of the museum.

When I awoke, it was around noon, so I just got up and relaxed. I took a shower and put on my typical blue jeans and black t-shirt. After that, I just reheated some leftover soup from the other night and set myself to reading about gangsters and speakeasies in the book about the Prohibition.

In the midst of a chapter discussing the processes of bootlegging alcohol, I looked up and saw it was almost half past two, so I swiftly slipped on my black vans and darted out if the apartment in the Nicky's school. After running down a couple of blocks and patiently waiting on the slow traffic lights, I reached Nicky's school just in time for him to walk out of the building. Thus, I began walking with him as we retraced our route back to our home. I told him about what had transpired at the museum the previous night. Obviously he was saddened by the news and shared my sentiments over the situation, but he definitely sided himself with Ahkmenrah on the matter.

"You know that you speak your mind at times, right Vi? Remember when you came to intern with Mrs. Ward last year and tried to tell her about the truth of Paul Revere's midnight ride," Nicky brought up the situation he prided himself in remembering.

This caused my to chuckled a little bit. "But it's true though," I answered him, "Dr. Samuel Prescott should be remembered more than William Dawes or Paul Revere, because when it came down to it, Prescott got the word out. All Dawes and Revere did was tell one village each and get caught by British patrols. I mean, they both eventually escaped, but Dawes got lost in the dark and Revere got to Concord just to see part of the battle that started the American Revolution."

This caused Nicky to smile brightly and point at me, "See Viola? That's what I'm talking about right there. You shouldn't be hesitant to speak up for what is right and defend it, you know."

He got me to smile as his words rung true; I had to admit, even though the kid was still very young, he was definitely wise beyond his years. "What must I pay for great advice like that, O great Nicholas Daley," I joked with him.

"A slurpee from 7-11," he asked hopefully, but knew it wouldn't take too much convincing to get me to go.

"All right, one slurpee for you and that's it," I bargained, as we walked towards the nearest 7-11. This journey to 7-11 lead to a detour through Central Park, making it half past four when we finally got back to the apartment.

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It wasn't until we were in the apartment for merely five minutes before Nicky opened up his algebra book, stared blankly at the page, and asked me for help. Needless to say, I spent the next few hours helping Nicky with his algebra, but you can only help someone so much when you barely know the material.

"Well Nicky, just know this," I told him as we finally finished his torturous assignment, "finding the X will only be useful if you are becoming a pirate, and I'm sure that Erica and Larry would certainly have issues with that occupation." He laughed and ultimately agreed with me as he put his stuff into his backpack.

"Hey," I asked him as the idea struck me, "did you read those articles yet?"

"Yeah, they were actually really interesting," Nicky responded excitedly, "thanks for letting me borrow your textbook, Viola. I'll be getting an A for sure."

"You better be, I don't think dad would accept anything less."

Nicky paused, "Speaking of dad, where is he? It's a quarter until eight and he still isn't home."

I glanced up at the clock and realized what he said was true. "Maybe I'll call him and see where he's at," I told Nicky as I grabbed the home phone and began to dial his phone number. No sooner had I dialed the number I heard the front door open and knew dad was home.

"Hey dad," Nicky called out as dad entered the living room, as I hung up the phone on the receiver.

"Hey kiddos," he greeted with a smile as he entered the kitchen with a huge bag full of Chinese food. Trying to be helpful, I took the food from him and set it on the kitchen table before entering what I affectionately dubbed as our kitchen closet.

"Geez, Dad, I know Viola and I can put away some food, but this is a lot even for us," I heard Nicky remark as he unpacked the food from the bag. I started grabbing silver ware and plates when I heard dad mention that Ed from work was coming over to eat dinner.

"So you're working tonight," I asked dad as I emerged from the kitchen closed with four plates and silverware, and I quickly worked on setting the table.

"I used to work every night, remember," Dad questioned with a chuckle as he removed his work jacket.

"Yeah, but that was back when you had, like, the coolest job in the world," Nicky pointed out, causing me to smile and give him a discreet nod of approval.

"Hey," Dad retorted as he hung up his work jacket, "cool doesn't pay for your Guitar God 6 or whatever." Nicky and I laughed quietly as he continued, "Besides, I thought I should at least buy Ed dinner since I made him cancel his daughter's birthday party on Friday."

"Wait a minute," I stopped to ask dad, "you made Ed cancel his daughter's birthday for the Wal-Mart meeting?"

"That's pretty cruel, Dad," Nick added on, joking around with him.

"Hey," Dad answered a little too defensively,"I didn't ask him to cancel her birthday, I just asked him to schedule the Wal-Mart meeting."

Before we could continue the conversation, the phone rang and I went to see who it was. "The caller ID says that it's out of state," I informed dad, "should we let the machine get it?"

"No, it might be a client," he murmured, slipping past me to hit the speakerphone button. "Hello?"

"Gigantor, it's me, Jedediah!"

We all froze in place and dad rushed back to the phone in a extremely confused state, "Jed? Jed, what are you... How did you dial the phone?"

"Long story! That brazen little monkey stole the tablet, and now we're in a world of hurt, boy," Jed shouted trying to not be drowned out by the cries and yells in the background.

"What's going on," Dad asked, trying to keep calm and get at grasp on the situation while Nicky and I exchanged nervous glances.

"Kahmunrah!"

"Kahmunrah?"

"Ahkmenrah's big brother! He's here! And trust me, not a friendly! I repeat, not a friendly," Jedediah stressed before he began the shouting in the background grew louder and closer.

"Is that Attila, Jed," Dad asked as he snatched the phone from the receiver, desperation creeping into his voice. "Jed, are you okay," he began practically shouting into the phone, causing a hand to involuntarily fly up to my mouth in fear and worry. "Hey Jed. Jed?" Dad held the phone to his ear for a few moments longer before hanging it up once more and turning towards Nicky and I.

"What was that about," Nicky spoke up for the both of us rather nervously.

Dad paused for a second before stating, "I don't know, but I'm gonna go find out." He soon started handing out commands as if he were an army general, "Nick, I'm gonna drop you off at your mom's so get your stuff together. Viola, you're coming with me so go grab the stuff you need fast."

Nicky wasted no time in gathering his things just as well as I did. I dashed into my room and started throwing essential items into my messenger bag. I threw in another pair of jeans and a navy blue t-shirt with the Back to the Future logo on it as well as a black hoodie. Other than that, I just threw in my iPhone along with it's respective charger and a pair of earphones. I was standing outside of the apartment with dad and Nicky within a few minutes.

Dad got into his car, which he rarely ever used and we all piled in quickly, I sat in the back with Nicky for the time being. Dad placed a call to Ed, explaining that a family emergency came up so dinner was obviously canceled, leaving Nicky and I in a nervous tension.

"Do you think they're going to be all right," Nicky looked over at me, a clearly worried expression on his face.

I gave Nicky the best reassuring smile I could muster, "They'll be okay, they just have to hold out until we get there Nick."

He nodded, "You think you'll need my help getting through the archives?"

"Most definitely, I bet you that dad will be calling before we even leave New York," I assured him, "Dad can't read a map to save his life, thats where we come in."

That got Nicky to smile and the conversation ended there. Within a few minutes we were stopped outside of Erica's house and Nicky was departing.

"See you later kiddo," I said as I ruffled Nicky's hair just before he exited the taxi along with dad. It took a few minutes for dad to return, having to do some explaining to Erica. I obviously took the chance to hop up into the passenger seat and pulled out my phone, and began looking up some much needed details.

We were off towards the airport, which was quite some distance from Erica's, so I took the opportunity of speaking with dad. "So, what's your plan for when we get to the Smithsonian?"

"I have a highly thought-out plan," he answered in a tone completely void of reassurance.

"You have no plan, don't you," I responded, a faint smile inching it's way into view and a chuckle underneath my breath.

"Yes, I have no plan," dad rolled his eyes as he admitted, "I swear, you and Nicky read me like a book sometimes."

"That's our job," I informed him before taking the conversation to a serious level, with a bit of reluctance. "You know, we're not going to make it into the Smithsonian tonight, right?"

"Why not," dad gave me a strange look consisting of concern and curiosity.

"Okay, so the Smithsonian is made up of nineteen different museums and nine research centers. Almost all the museums close at five thirty, a few of the museums even close at five o'clock. However, the museum that is open the latest is The American Art Museum and Portrait gallery that's open until seven o'clock. The federal archives that everyone was sent to are actually underneath the Smithsonian, and all the entry places for the archives are within the museums. So we can't get there unless the museums are open," I explained to dad. I bit my lip anxiously before adding, "We'll have to get in tomorrow night, that's our only real option."

Dad looked a bit frustrated even thought he was focused on the road ahead, but he seemed understanding of what I had said. "So since Ahkmenrah's tablet is under the Smithsonian," he began to say.

"The biggest museum in the world has come to life," I finished his thought, the reality of the situation triggering a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach.

"Have you done a project on the Smithsonian before, Vi?"

I looked over at my dad as he drove, "No, why?"

"You seem to know a lot about it," he answered with a slight shrug, "more than I know anyways."

I giggled before I addressed his answer, "You're not the only one with a smart phone, Dad. I did a little research while you were dropping off Nicky."

"Okay," Dad responded with a grin, "well, is your phone so smart that it could get us a map of the archives?"

"No, you're going to have to call Nicky for that one, it'll be much easier for him to pull up a map of the Smithsonian and the archives on his laptop," I told him.

Dad just agreed and fell into silence, which I assumed meant he was wracking his brain for some sort of plan, so I just let him be. I fished the earphones out of my messenger bag, plugging them into my iPhone and listened to a few songs by Van Halen, Elton John, and The Killers.

It wasn't too terribly long until we reached the airport, but the next thing I knew, we had ran through the airport, gotten two first-class tickets thanks to dad's business reputation, gone through the TSA checkpoints without any problems, and then I found myself surrounded by people of rather high importance in first class. I felt extremely uncomfortable amongst the high ranking business officials, and could definitely see why Robbie in The Wedding Singer was a fish out of water in this situation.

I turned to talk with dad to ease my nerves, but I found that he was fast asleep in his seat. With a sigh, I returned to my solution of the iPhone, slipping the earbuds into my ears listening to music and playing around with apps for the entirety of the flight.

Once we landed in Washington DC, I came across the not so easy task of waking a bear from his slumber. I poked dad a few times to try to wake him up before I resorted to shaking him awake, narrowly missing a reflexive, clumsily aimed fist directed towards me; dad really hated to be woken up. "C'mon," I told him as he began to wake up, "we're in DC."

We exited the plane and soon left the airport behind us. I hailed a cab since dad was still a bit groggy from his nap, I suppose, and we went the nearest hotel. By the time we had arrived, dad was awake enough to make the room arrangement and to both of our relief, we were headed up to our room within minutes. It didn't take long for dad to pretty much pass out onto one of the beds, leaving me awake with my own worrisome thoughts.

I couldn't help but worry for my friends and what issues they would be encountering tonight in a strange, and from what we heard, hostile environment. I hoped and prayed that they could at least hold themselves together until we could get to them tomorrow, and the same went for the plan to get there that dad had yet to develop. I wondered about what would happen to dad and I once we were in the Smithsonian after hours, and I felt a strange mixture of of excitement and dread at the thought. I couldn't quite place my finger on what, but something in my gut was screaming that nothing would ever be the same after tomorrow.

I finally felt sleep's warm grasp envelop around me as I began to doze off, and I welcomed it gratefully. I fell asleep after what was an hour or so of worrying, knowing that it would only be a short time until I was to see what life had in store for me tomorrow.


	6. The Best Laid Plans

Out of habit, I woke up around ten o'clock only to find out that dad was still asleep. It would be in my best interests to leave dad alone; a number of reasons hinging on the fact that ever since he took on the task of being executive of Daley Devices, he rarely got a good nights sleep from all the stress and work he put into his company. The other reasons were simply that I didn't want to deal with his half-asleep wrath when I woke him.

As quietly as I possibly could, I got up and grabbed my messenger bag as I tiptoed into the bathroom. A shower was the number one thing on my priority list at the time considering the last minute, traveling chaos that had been endured the night before. After the refreshing shower my attire didn't change much. A pair of jeans and a navy blue t-shirt, would be practical enough for a rescue mission and sightseeing. I exited the bathroom to retrieve my wallet and the room key since getting something to eat was second on the priority list.

I went down to the lobby and bought a few snacks as well as a Dr. Pepper before heading back up to the room. When I returned, dad was still asleep, so I spent the rest of my morning and part of my afternoon eating the snacks, texting Nicky, and looking up any information I could find about Washington DC or the Smithsonian Institute.

Hours had passed before dad showed any signs of life. "It's very nice of you to join the living," I mused wryly with a grin, "I almost thought that I would have to pull the fire alarm to get you up, but that would have caused a whole different set of problems. We have enough of those already."

"It's too damn early for your sarcasm," he mutter groggily, sitting up as he tried to blink the sleep from his eyes.

"Far from it," I approached the question almost reluctantly after double checking the time on my iPhone. "It's about one o'clock in the afternoon, pops."

"What?!" I cringed as he shouted aloud, coming extremely close to slipping off his own bed. He looked over at me and asked in a very demanding tone, "How could you let me sleep that late?! Why would you let me sleep that late?"

"I'm sure you know the 'how', dad. I just didn't bother you. As for the way, well, there are two reasons. One, you never really get any decent sleep so I figured you needed it. Two, you can be very irritable and tense when you wake up," I answered calmly as dad ran about in a hurried frenzy.

"Okay, uh, I'll just grab a shower and then we'll head over to the Smithsonian," Dad stated, most likely reaching a decision for himself as he headed into the bathroom to take care of other matters.. It was less than five seconds before dad poked his head out once again, "You think they have food vendors there?"

"I'm sure they do," I assured him with a smirk and a chuckle, returning my attention to the information about Washington DC displayed on my phone.

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"Are you serious," Dad mumbled with his mouth full as he finished the last bite of his hot dog, "You can get arrested for dancing in front of the Lincoln Memorial?"

"Yeah, that's what I read this morning," I explained, climbing up the stairs of the Smithsonian's own Air and Space Museum. "You know, it kind of sounds a little suspicious to me... Almost like they're trying to apply the 'no dancing' law in Footloose here. First Washington DC, then the rest of the nation," I joked, spinning around to face dad as he approached me.

He laughed, the first time in a while I had actually really heard him laugh in a long time. "I guess so," he answered with a wide grin, "that's a good thing to know so I don't have to cut footloose there."

This in return got a laugh out of me. I hadn't seen this side out of dad for a very long time. This was the Larry Daley that Nick and I had known forever as we were growing up. It was a relief to see that his sense of adventure and his humor had survived the success of his business. Just knowing how hard he works and how he is constantly balancing time between working and being a good dad, so it was great to see him loosen up for once.

"Well, I guess we better start scoping out the area," Dad stated, the smile fading from his face slightly. "We have to find an entry point to get down to the archives and know the surroundings of the museum... just in case."

"Yeah, we'll need to with your luck," I responded, almost instantly regretting answering him. The Daley Curse was invoked. It's something similar to Murphy's Law, but more relevant to my family. Now that I had brought up dad's impeccable bad luck, I felt that nagging feeling that something bad was going to happen to me. It had happened before. On the day before my high school graduation when I made fun of dad for tripping, I ended up tripping over my own two feet as I walked across the stage. It wouldn't bother me as much if Dad hadn't caught the entire scene on video and watched it with Nick from time to time, trying to stifle their laughter and leaving me scowling at a wall in the adjacent room.

We entered the museum and went through the checkpoints, which I though was just a little excessive for a museum. However, upon considering that we were soon mingling amongst a large crowd of strangers, I could see why it would be deemed necessary. We walked along the ground floor of the museum keeping each other within an arms distance since I dreaded the fact of being lost. Although I should have been thinking strategy, my mind was swept up in history like it usually was. My eyes scarcely left the exhibits while dad was focused maneuverability options throughout the museum. Despite the occasional nudge from my dad to note where a staff or personnel door was, I was able to enjoy seeing several different types rockets, a large red plane that I didn't quite recognize, little Einstein bobble-heads, a replica of the Wright brothers plane (which made the 12 second flight that filled my childhood obsessions), and an adorable little Capuchin in a spacesuit named Able.

Dad and I ascended the staircase to the second floor, which gave him a better view of potential exits and gave me a better view of the exhibits. This was definitely a win-win situation. I was gazing at the model of the Spruce Goose, the largest transport amphibian aircraft that was made in 1942, when I had bumped into dad. "Sorry," I mumbled taking a few steps away and corrected my gaze to see that Dad had stopped along the edge of a tour group.

"Hi, excuse me," Dad called out and waved, grabbing the tour guide's attention before asking, "Could you tell me how to get to the Federal Archives?"

I kept a blank expression. I honestly just wanted to question him on why he would try to ask the most suspicious sounding questions to get us thrown out of the museum and prevent us from helping our friends. Though it would seem that staying quiet for the time being seemed to be the best possible option in that moment.

"Of course," the lady responded in an all too chipper tone, "just be a historical document worthy of storing for all eternity." She paused and looked around at the tour group with a smug before stating the obvious, "I'm kidding, he's not a document."

Dad and I exchanged a brief glance as we both inwardly cringed at the staff lady's 'joke'. A document? Really? She could have at least been clever and said that he should be wearing Neil Armstong's spacesuit or Charles Linburg's flight jacket. I looked at the group tour as they laughed and realized they were almost all adults. A little bit of my hope for the future died in that moment. These could potential be the parents of children I teach, and if I had learned anything from educational psych, it was that children gain their morals from their parents. Why would adults be genuinely laugh at something that dumb?

"I'm sorry sir," the lady continued, distracting me from my appalled thoughts, "the Archives are underground, and they're a secure area."

"Really? Like, totally secure?" No dad, they had seasonal guards that were actually polar bears that hibernate in the summer and take vacations to go salmon runs. Yes, everything is going to be totally secure in the nation's capitol.

The lady nodded once more so Dad replied rather quickly, "Okay, thank you." He turned to walk away from the tour, which meant I wasn't too far behind him.

"Hey Ethan Hunt," I stated quietly as I followed closely beside him, "Is your plan for us to get caught before we can even sneak in?"

Dad gave a slight chuckle, a smirk quickly appearing on his face. "Still working it," he admitted as he walked before adding, "care to share your sense of humor with that tour guide back there?"

"Oh God, don't even get me started," I warned as I shook my head, "if we're in the Air and Space Museum, she could have at least tried to incorporate some artifact pertaining to the museum's focus into her quip."

"And what should I be to gain access to the Federal Archives?"

"I don't know, Buzz Aldrin's left sock that he coated in moon dust or something. There are numerous answers to that."

Dad laughed quietly, but didn't say anything after that. We walked through the rest of the Air and Space Museum before making our way to the Art Museum. Dad continued to note possible entries and exits throughout the Art Museum while I marveled at the impressive sculptures and portraits we passed, never daring to stray away from Dad. Before I knew it, we had gone though the Art Museum and wandered to the American History Museum. Dad had to practically drag me through that building since I was prone to stopping and reading all the information about the exhibits.

Finally it was getting later into the afternoon and closer to closing time. The moment was drawing nigh when we would have to make our move, and dad was still working on the development of our plan. We headed towards the breathtaking, gorgeously designed Smithsonian Castle. Dad sped through the museum, only giving me seconds to catch glimpses of the exhibits. As we rounded a corner to turn down an open hall, one exhibit made me stop dead in my tracks as I caught sight of it. I approached the glass encased exhibit of Al Capone, taking in the sight of it all.

"Hey," Dad shouted out and broke me from my focus, "The museum closes soon, we have to hurry."

"Sorry Dad, but this could actually help out with my project on the Prohibition," I object politely.

"Well, maybe if we're lucky, you can talk to him later," Dad sighed with aggravation, gently grabbing my sleeve and guiding me away from the case.

"That's not as likely as you think it may be, knowing our luck," I sighed as I followed him, not like I had much of a choice on the matter anyways.

We kept walking down the hall until we entered a large room with magnificent stained glass windows on either side, but both Dad and I were focused on two different things. Dad's attention was focused on the huge ornate Egyptian object that the information sign identified as the gate of Kahmunrah, which actually looked as if it had space to hold the tablet of Ahkmenrah at it's center. I, on the other hand, was trying to deal with the apprehensive feeling I had in the pit of my stomach that someone was paying a little too much attention to me. I looked around at every reflective surface in front of me, trying to catch sight of who was watching me so closely while trying to keep cool, then I caught sight of the suspect in the glass case around an old, exquisite Greek vase.

I nudged my father's arm just enough to get his attention before whispering under my breath, "Look at glass around the vase." He turned to look at a reflection of us, but soon understood as he caught sight of by the heavy-set security guard by the entry way who was watching me intently. "That creep has been watching me ever since we walked in here," I informed dad in a low tone.

A smile came to dad's face and he muttered to me quickly, "Viola, you're a genius!"

"What," I whispered the response, completely confused and stumped over what he was thinking. "If I said something helpful, I must have blacked out for a minute there because I was telling you about the creep."

"Yeah," he answered in his normal tone, insinuating that a private conversation had taken place, "You can go look at the exhibit down the hall that we passed by earlier. I'll meet up with you before the museum closes." He gave me a wink to answer my puzzled expression, his signal to just go with it. I shrugged in response, then turned to exit the room, inwardly cringing as the security guard watched me leave.

Not really knowing what dad wanted me to do, and not exactly wanting to know either, I wandered back to the Al Capone exhibit. I had to commend the historian who designed the exhibit, because it was wonderfully done. The exhibit held his Alcatraz mugshots and a monochrome, wax figure of when Capone was younger. I tried to recall the foot note length information Mr. Hippensteel had given to the class a few months before as I had written it in my notes. His full name was Alphonse Gabriel Capone, otherwise known as Al or Scarface. He was a notorious Italian-American gangster who was most famous for his part in mob activity in Chicago from the 1920s to early 1931. He ran his crime empire during the Prohibition movement in America, so he made his money by smuggling alcohol and running several speakeasies around Chicago. He seemed to be everything a successful gangster should be, handsome, well dressed, and had striking scars to remember him by. I began reading the plaques both inside and outside the glass casing, leading me to rummage through my messenger bag to record a few quick notes on my iPhone.

The sounds of shouting followed by scuffling was what broke my attention from the intriguing exhibit. I looked around, realizing that what I had heard was coming from just down the hall from the room where dad was. What had he gotten himself in to? Worried about what was happening, I slid my iPhone into my pocket before dashing in the direction of the room only to find my dad holding the previously mentioned security guard in a head lock. I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing, the security guard looked so shocked to get one-upped by dad. "E-Everything okay. dad," I managed to stammer out without laughing as I walked towards him.

Dad looked up at me from having said something to the security guard, "Yeah, yeah, everything's under control." He let the guard out of the headlock. However, he made his point abundantly clear by taking the guard's flashlight from him, quickly discharging the mechanism of it's batteries, and flipping it around a few times before handing it back to the guard. I smiled, making a mental note to ask Dad if he would show me that trick at some point.

The guard seemed to be mystified by dad's handy work with a flashlight, which I don't blame him for. However, once he had caught sight of me, his expression quickly turned to what looked like he would call his best 'player' face. He advanced a few steps towards me, most likely trying to select which groan worthy pick-up line he would spin this time, before my dad's hand shot up in front of him.

"Ah," Dad said in a warning tone, arching an eyebrow in dead earnest, "no I.T.T."

Needless to say, the guard backed off and they both started babbling apologizes that didn't make sense to each other. Quietly, I considered all the hysteria and craziness that had happened that day. Was this all a dream? Was this some elaborate prank that would go on for a few more hours? I barely had a clue about what we were doing, other than the fact that we had to save our friends from Kahmunrah's clutches. In a slightly confused daze, I followed Dad out of the room and waited to speak until we were a good distance away.

"What the Hell was that all about," I hissed quietly, once we were halfway down the hall.

"For one, that dude is scum for trying to check out my daughter when I am literally standing right next to her. No one looks at my daughter and makes her uncomfortable like that on my watch," Dad began to explain, causing me to smirk with pride for my dad for a moment. "And two," dad added as he slipped a photo ID out of his jacket sleeve, "Brundon was kind enough to give us access to the archives."

The sight of the ID caused me to smile even more as I took it from him. "I take it all back. Maybe we won't get thrown out after all. Have I ever told you how amazing you are Dad," I said in awe, before pausing and continuing in a perplexed tone, "You said his name was Brundon, but it says Brandon on the ID."

Dad took the ID back and slipped it into one of the internal pockets of his jacket. "It's a long story," he stated dryly, "but trust me, it's Brundon."

I nodded, knowing I shouldn't question it so I quickly changed the subject. "So, we've got about an hour and a half until the art museum closes."

"All right," Dad replied with a quick nod, "let's go loiter around there until they close, then we'll work on getting into the archives."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated this story in two years... oops. My deepest and sincerest apologies, guys. A lot has happened in two years, but I am now a certified teacher! I'm going to do my damndest to finish this story and get back into writing regularly, but I do ask for your patience. The inspiration to write and create for myself has slowly been trickling back into my bloodstream, and it may take some time to get it back to where it once was.


	7. Sundown, Ya Better Take Care

"All right Dad, you're clear," I stated quietly as I finished scoping out the hallway, finding no soul or security cameras were within the area. I found myself going over the vaguely detailed plan that dad had explained.This was the plan we had agreed on; when we heard the notice that 'the museum would be closing in ten minutes', we would make our way to the nearest restricted access door, and I would make sure the coast was clear for dad to get us behind the scenes. This was assuming everything worked in our favor... Was this the perfect plan? Not in the slightest. Was there a high margin for error and unexpected variables that could become prevalent in a moments notice? Absolutely. Did we have an escape plan? I figured we'd burn that bridge when we get to it.

With a nod of acknowledgement, dad dashed across the hall to the door with a sign next to it that read in large letters 'RESTRICTED ACCESS: PERSONNEL ONLY'. Thanks to Brundon, we were technically unpaid personnel. We could make that argument work. Dad quickly retrieved the ID from his pocket, sliding through the little card reader in hopes that everything would go off without a hitch. A little pip signified that the door had unlocked, thus dad wasted no time opening the door, letting me enter first and following my lead before closing the door behind us. The plan was in motion now, and there was very little, almost nothing, that could keep us from doing what we had set out to do. Of course, that's just at first glance. There were a number of things that technically could happen, but we just had to keep on our toes and remain cautious. My stomach was filled with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. It was an exciting rush to think that we would be sneaking around under the largest museum in the world, focused on our mission to help our friends escape. However, the worrisome emotions kept coming from the fear of being caught and the fate of our friends we were trying to save, a fear I would wager that would persist throughout the night.

Dad took the lead the as we began cautiously walking down the long hallway, which was crowded with exhibit restoration materials. The hall we were currently sneaking across lead to an intersection of different exits. As we attempted to get our bearings of the maze of hallways, our opportunity was hindered as two of the Smithsonian guards rounded the corner of the hall and headed our way. Instinct took hold of me as I looked for the nearest possible exit. I grabbed Dad's arm swiftly, and roughly pulled him into an open room before closing the door abruptly.

I stayed by the door for a few moments, hearing the conversation between the two guards rise and fall in volume as they passed. Once it was quiet, I opened the door just a crack to see if anyone else was coming or going. It would seem as if fortune was on our side when I found no one in the hall. "Thank God, that was really close dad," I heaved a sigh of relief. I could feel my heart beat slowing down considerably from it's pounding mere moments before. I turned to signal that the hall was clear to dad, but he was focused on something in one of the lockers.

"Viola," Dad instructed before I could question his motive, "watch the door for a minute."

"All right, but hurry. We only have thirty-two minutes to get down there," I called over my shoulder nervously as I checked the time on my iPhone. I waited for a few minutes, my back against the door and my eyes trained on my nervously fidgeting feet. The sound of footsteps caused me to shift my gaze to look at my dad. A smile quickly tugged at the corners of my lips as I truly recognized the man standing before me. He was the dad I used to know; he had traded his business suit for a Smithsonian night guard uniform. Within those few minutes, I could his usual smile and the familiar, happy gleam had returned to his blue eyes. He was back in his element. Finally!

"Looking sharp, pops," I remarked with a smirk, crossing the space between us to give him a pat on the shoulder. "Feeling any different? Like maybe you'd like your old job back once I start student teaching?" Honestly, personally glad to see that 'business Larry' hadn't quite killed 'guard Larry'.

"Thanks, Vi. It feels like the old times..." Dad's smile grew even wider at the compliment. He tossed me a flashlight identical to the one he had, skillfully avoiding the question I had asked him. It stung a little to be brushed aside like that, but we didn't have the time to argue. "Ready?"

"Yeah." I opened the door for my dad and let him lead the way, once again. I checked my iPhone again for the time.  Twenty-eight minutes to save our friends from Kahmunrah... Maybe, just maybe, we could pull this off.  We were no less than three steps outside when dad pulled out his phone and called Nicky. "Okay, buddy, we're in," Dad said in a low tone, almost immediately after he had dialed the phone, "We're in the northeast corridor of the American Art Museum, just off the commons. I need you to talk us to the archives. We have to hurry too," he paused to look down at his watch, "we've only got 28 minutes until sundown."

I stayed quiet while dad got directions from Nick, following him closely and carefully down the hall. At the end of the hall we turned right and then took a left entering a stairwell. We began descending the flight of stairs before us down to a platform labeled 'Level B' until dad stopped in the middle of the stairs. "Nick? Hello? Nick," Dad turned and started walking back up the stairs.  A knot formed in my stomach.  None of us had taken into consideration that cell phones do not get reception under several feet of concrete.  What would we do now?

While Dad was still trying to talk to Nicky, I heard a door open and foot fall from flight of stairs right above us. "Dad," I whispered, tugging his jacket sleeve to get his attention then pointing to the two other guards coming down the stair well, "we're going to have to do this on our own." Dad nodded reluctantly, hanging up the phone and we headed back down the stairwell before exiting through the door to our left

By some sheer sort of miracle, we managed to navigate our way through the levels of hallway mazes and ducking guards, we finally stumbled upon the entrance to the Archives. I glanced around as we approached the entrance, spotting a security station that regulated what came and went from the area. The realization struck me that in order to actually get through the gate security, one would have to go through the personnel checkpoint.  I began to worry about how Dad exactly planned to get through, but he didn't seem to be concerned about it.  He stopped suddenly and turned to me, pointing out the camera and giving me a nod that indicated to stay put for the time being. I complied and watched Dad approach the personnel checkpoint.

"ID," an unamused voice came from the small intercom in front of the camera. Dad quickly retrieved Brundon's ID and held it up to the camera, obscuring any view of us. "Brundon," the voice exclaimed from the intercom once again, sounding like he was stoned rather than unamused at this point.

"Hey," Dad gave a bad imitation of Brundon as he motioned for me to move forward.  As I dashed across, I smirked and was trying desperately not to laugh.  Dad just rolled his eyes at my reaction. "Later dude," the stoned voice said once more as the gate to the archives opened. "All right, yeah," Dad grumbled, still using his imitation of Brundon as he followed me thought the gate swiftly.

Once we were through the gate, I burst into a fit of giggles only to earn myself an embarrassed glance from dad. "Not a word to anyone about what just happened, Viola," he said in a hushed tone, burying his face in his hands.  "Not one damn word."

"Don't worry Dad," I managed to collect myself and say in a normal tone as we began walking again, "I won't, I promise.  I won't even tell Ahkmenrah about your valiant imitation to retrieve the tablet..."

We passed thousands of exhibits as we slowly and cautiously made our way through the archives as we searched for our friends. I had to resist the urge to inspect many of the more interesting exhibits that were hidden, riddled among the crates and plastic covers, but dad didn't seem to have that issue.  He was focused and intent on getting the job done.  We approached a rather open area in the archives where a single, wooden crate sat in the middle of the floor. This seemed to be rather peculiar to my dad, so he took it upon himself to inspect it.

"Dad, what are you doing?"

"I'm just curious," Dad answered, glancing up at me as he threw off the cover sheet, "just checking it out." I heaved a sigh as dad began to unlatch the crate, knowing just exactly where his curiosity would take us.  This would be just like the time he wanted to try getting on set when they filmed The Incredible Hulk last year. It didn't end well... at all.Once the crate had been unlatched, two large tentacles spilled out onto the tile flooring.

"What was that saying about how curiosity killed the cat," I asked in a dry, sarcastic tone before helping dad place the tentacles back into the crate.

"You know that you're missing part of that phrase. Curiosity may have killed the cat, but satisfaction brought him back," Dad shook his head and chuckled as he latched the crate like it was before before continuing on. We passed by many more exhibits as we wandered through the archives.  A growing anxiety shouted in the back of my mind that we were definitely running out of very precious time.  I didn't want to check my phone to confirm that suspicion.  I had to stay focused.  Too much was at stake for my dad and my friends.

Dad and I came to another closed off area, and our jaws hit the floor.  We couldn't quite believe what we saw.  Dad found the door unlocked, throwing open the latch and entering quickly to further inspect the baffling scene.  I even threw on the overhead lights to make sure that what we had seen was actually real.  There was a small group of Egyptians soldiers facing a partially opened, old shipping container. Many of the Egyptians were frozen in their battle stances, poised with their spears and ready to strike whenever the sun would set and the tablet could work it's magic. Well, the only exception would be the Egyptian leader who was frozen mid-shout and pointing towards the container as he was surrounded by his soldiers. My bets were on this guy for being the infamous Kahmunrah.

"Oh, my God," I heard my dad mumble from behind me, but I was dashing in the direction of the crate.  I poked my flashlight into the box to give me a better view of its contents.  A gasp escaped my lungs, only to inevitably discover my friends crowded inside, prepared to fight back the Egyptians who were forcing them into the container. "Mother puss bucket," I muttered to myself, "what did you guys get yourselves into?"

"Do you see the tablet?"

"Yeah," came my reply as I backed away from the small opening, "It's definitely out of reach though." This didn't seem to stop dad, he peeked in there to survey the situation anyways.  If anything, you had to commend the man for his determination.

"You little trouble maker, I'm gonna deal with you later," I heard him hiss at an inanimate Dexter.  I couldn't help but smirk and roll my eyes at the comment. He tried to pry open the doors just a little more, but they wouldn't budge. I took a few steps back to give dad some room to work. I glanced at the Egyptian soldier to my right, my gaze nervously focused on his spear before a brilliant idea occurred to me.

"Hey Dad," I said as I forcefully pried the spear from his grasp, "try your luck with this."

Dad carefully took the spear from me and maneuvered it into the container box.  After a few minutes of effort, he managed to secure the tablet.  He drew back the spear and grabbed the tablet, looking as excited as if he had won the lottery.  He flashed me a victorious smile as one similar to his grew on my face, but the smiles vanished in an instant when we saw the golden rays being emitted from the tablet.

"No. No! No, no, no!"

The Daley Curse had been invoked.  We were too late.  We had failed to get our friends out of trouble and now we were in the kettle of boiling water along with them. I never should have brought up Dad's impeccable bad luck.


End file.
